Visions of downfall
by May20
Summary: If Denethor had sent his jounger son... the fellowship set out with eight from Rivendell.
1. Chapter 1

Authors notes:

For the first date my husband and I had after two years of hard work and no time for artistic activities, he took me out for dinner. And then we saw the Hobbit. Howard Shores music reminded me how much I missed Middleearth and wakened the wish in me to write another LotR story. We are still stuck in work, but I need this now. Just writing a page or two, sometimes.

You will find action and adventure in this little piece. And some mistakes, because this is not my native language. So please, be patient. If there is a beta reader who volunteers, I will not refuse. I like this language and always wanted to try to write an English story. Now I feel ready!

* * *

Chapter 1

He did not know how long he held out in his iron-less cage far up in the chilling height. He did not care anymore, since everything he could do, was to wait until his hairy messenger brought feathered help.

The voice in the deep had started to scream again, raised roughly to a cruel height, just to break fainting. And start anew.

Gandalf did not know if this was just another illusion to burden his heart, created by the fouled insanity, he now knew, had befallen his once superior Istari.

But it was convincing.

It worked.

* * *

He observed the place, hidden by trees and marked with ornamented chairs. Although he was in the middle of a pretty mixed company his mustering did not intent to find out the features or attitudes of the attendees. He was searching for an answer to a question unknown.

Even as Lord Elrond of Rivendell welcomed the far traveled parties and opened the council; even as he himself stood up to bring forward the incitement of their meeting and let Frodo reveal what was the origin of the rising dark... He was not able to take off that dreadfull feeling that was not refering to their upcoming quest.

Although they had formed a fellowship in the end, they parted. To prepare their path and say farewell to those they would leave behind, if they had.

Legolas Greenleaf and Aragorn left together, exchanging low, grave words. As he let his eyes follow the befriended pair, it seemed the mist became clearer and he just had to reach out and grab it.

„Something troubles your mind, Mithrandir. But I doubt it was debated in the council", a calm voice to his right stated.

Gandalf did not take off his gaze of Aragorn. If Elrond had a supposition, he did not tell but kept it to himself. It was when the silhouette of the tall Gondorian disappeared in the shadows of the trees that the old wizard dared to form his unclear thoughts into words.

"I have a strange feeling. Like something is amiss. Just like tapestry lacking yarn of a certain colour."

"Alas, Mithrandir. You have a Dwarf, an Elf, a Man and four Hobbits. Not to mention you, as you are your own kin. If that is not colorful enough, I do not know, what you do expect."

Again, Gandalf was silent, as he was at loss of words. Elronds eyes wandered to the point where Aragorn and Legolas had disappeared. The wizard wondered, if the Lord still was able to see them.

"Who are you to claim the talent to foresee the Valars plans for sure?" Elrond continued after a while.

"Well I know certain people who are blessed by the gift", Gandalf returned with a slight grin.

Elrond replied the smile.

"This talent is an unsound one. Depending strongly on knowledge of the worlds events. All to easily influenced by rumors, superstition and emotion. Easily misinterpreted or mixed up with warnings. Only a fool relies on that."

"So you call me a fool?"

"I just tell you not to await me to know what destiny holds or should be holding for us. I just tell you to take it as what you were searching, when you decided to bring the One here. An advice", he turned to the wizard and the smile was gone. "What else happened in Isengard?"

Gandalf took a deep breath, knitting his brows.

"That is not easy to explain. I heard things there..." his voice faded, as at loss for words.

"What did Saruman tell you?"

"It was nothing he told or showed me. Maybe he planned to, but then I fled. Now there is just uncertainty. A foundation for rumors."

Elrond got the hint.

"We do not have the time to hesitate. If you need to find out, then do so on your travel. But with an alerted mind and never too deepened. Or the evil around you will have an easy adversary", the elven Lord said.

"Your advise is much welcomed."

* * *

There was giggling and agitation, as always when they stopped for a break. The Hobbits were bustling to prepare first breakfast. They were resting just some Miles away from Hollin and Ridge. The two mountains soared above the lowlands of Eregion. In their background the Misty Mountains stood out, dark and still.

Gandalf did not take part at the busy happenings. He still was in thought, since they had to decide now, which way to take.

Aragorn found a place at the rotting tree trunk beside him and sat down heavily. It seemed, the choice weighted hard on him, too.

"We have to decide", he plainly said. The wizard recognized how well Aragorns voice fitted the sounds of the wind. It was, as the Ranger had merged into nature. A automatized habit, doubtless.

"I am in the process", Gandalf answered.

The Hobbits would have finished the preparations soon. So Aragorn did not want to waste time. He knew, Legolas was helping them to some more Minutes, keeping the Hobbits busy and listening to their quiet conversation meters away with his fine ears.

"Over or under the hills", the Ranger stated more than questioning.

"Or beside..."

Aragorn lifted a brow.

"Beside!" he breathed and even Legolas was turning to them in astonishment. When the Dunedain regained his calm, he pressed on. "What brings you to that lunatic plan?"

Gandalf could not blame him for his choice of words. This thought was mad, indeed. His last meeting with Elrond came to his mind again. He remembered the advice he had given him.

"It is just an option, although not a good one. Forget it, Aragorn. As for our way, I'd rather face Cahadras, since I do not dare to disturb the deeps of Moria. Not even with a dwarf at our side."

He saw that Aragorn wanted to comment his choice again, but suddenly they were cut off.

"Strider, catch it!"

Something hit Gandalfs hat and threw it to the ground. An apple fell beside it. When both turned around, they saw Pippin holding his mouth shut with both hands and blushing a deep red.

"Sorry", he pressed through his fingers.

"There will come a day, your stupidity will bring me to the edge, Peregrin Tuk", Gandalf grumbled, but Aragorn saw the slight smile while the wizard bowed to get hat and apple.

"You should not be consulting in your exquisite company, anyway. We all shall hear, where you are leading us to", Gimli growled hungrily.

"And we shall enlighten you", Gandalf said, searching Aragorns commitment.

The Dunedain nodded barely noticeable.

* * *

"We cannot go on, Gandalf", Legolas scream echoed still clearly over the snowy wind.

"That pointy eared elf is right", Gimli grumbled behind him. "Not all of us can walk over the snow like him. Some feel the cold more than others."

He was referring to the Hobbits that trotted behind him and before Aragorn. Espeacially Frodo did not look well. His face was white and his lips had turned blue. When the path in the mountain had become too slim, it was not possible for Aragorn to support him, anymore.

It was only fifty Meters more, when temperature seemed to have fallen about five degrees and Pippin leaned heavily on the stony wall, causing the people behind him to stop. A strange noise let Legolas hesitate in front of them, too. Just listening some Seconds, he hurried to come back.

"Do you hear that?" he wanted to know from Gandalf.

"I do."

The elf did not know what else to say. He knew what it meant to turn and take another way. A way he feared much more than the voices in the wind. But maybe their current path was not an option anymore. Gandalf took a deep breath and from his grey robe a little bottle appeared. He showed it to Legolas.

"A gift from Elrond. A sip of it will warm us and strengthen the Hobbits for the way back."

* * *

It was a total chaos. The most of them stumbled more in their fled than running. The ground was still uneven and the shock was deep in their muscles and bones.

"This is the big stair way!" the dwarf screemed. "We are near to the other side! Keep going!"

The drums were hammering and the noise pounded pressing in their ears. Legolas' fine senses were sharpened to the edge. He heard the arrow hissing and grabbed the dwarfs collar from behind. Gimli started to protest, but stopped dead, when he felt the air draft of the missile. Unsure he looked up into the elfs clear eyes. But before he could even overcome his pride to thank him, the bottom began to shake.

The Hobbits screamed as Aragorn pressed them forward through a rain of arrows. The stairs seemed endless and with every step they did further, one more appeared in the radius of Gandalfs lighted staff.

Squealing horns sounded and it felt now as they were right above the mighty drums. Right in front of them the unthinkable happened. Under a new shaking the stairs gave in and cracked away. Like a dry peace of bread broken in two, the steps disappeared in the middle of two piers.

The group came to an halt. Aragorn did not hesitate long and risked it. He jumped and thanks to his height he overcame the seven foot wide gap easily. On the other side he turned around and held out both arms.

"Legolas, Gandalf, throw the Hobbits!" he gasped, sweat on his face.

Legolas reacted at once, catched the Ringbearer and letting Frodo run up he threw him with all the force he could apply. Frodo did not scream. But when he landed save in Aragorns arms his breath was fast and his eyes wide from adrenaline. While the elf turned to get the next one, Gandalf was prepared with Sam. Third one was Merry.

When Gandalf was on turn with Pippin and Legolas prepared himself, Gimli held him back. The elf turned around.

"I cannot jump that far", the dwarf said defeated and ashamed. "If I have to make it, I will need your help."

Legolas nodded simply. It relieved Gimli that he did not use the chance to annoy him with one of his arrogant comments. Instead he lead Gimli between himself and Gandalf. When he grabbed Gandalfs shoulder and indicated what they had to do, wizard and elf held the dwarf on each arm, letting Gimli space to run.

Uncertainly Gimli looked into Legolas' keen eyes. An assuring nod was returned. And in an unique action the dwarf started and was thrown over the widening gap.

Gandalf followed at once. He nearly lost his balance on the other side by landing an inch too short. But Aragorn and Samwise both got a strong hold and pulled him in safety.

This was not a wide distance for an elf. And so Legolas jumped without fear. What his elven movements could not compensate, was the new shaking of the stairs. Two more steps broke away and Aragorn jumped back, screaming in alarm.

Legolas missed the ground with his feet, but could manage to catch a ledge with both hands. He handled to pull himself half the way up, when he felt strong hands help him. Gimli and Aragorn were looking down on him with horrified expressions on their faces.

And then he felt it.

A hot bite into his left arm. Surprised by that unexpected sensation he exhaled sharply and nearly fell forward as he was dragged over the edge.

"He is hit!" Gimli screamed over the noise.

There was no time.

"Come up!" Aragorn pulled the elf on his feet and together they began to run after the rest of them.

Legolas knew it: if he did not run now, this was his end.

"I will not die here", he gasped. "I will not die where the stars do not shine."

Gimli, who supported by providing his shoulder looked up and growled.

"Do not worry, friend. You will have company, if this should not be avoidable, because I will not leave your side."

Although the shock faded and the pain was already coming, Legolas felt irritatingly touched somehow. Not by the promise the dwarf had just given. But by the salutation he had used.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello dear readers,

thank you Yami Dragoness for your kindness. It is really welcomed. Hopefully you can forgive me posting so late. I will do my best to make it better with chapter 3.

Speaking of 3: The prologue will be finished with this chapter. I tried not to hurry and wanted to highlight the differences but not retell Tolkiens story. But I am also exited about the next chapter since then the action will demand it's space :D. Have fun!

* * *

Chapter 2

„_You shall not pass!" The wizard cried out against the wads of smoke that let Aragorns eyes burn and tear._

_The clang of the wooden staff hitting the ground was audible in the endless stone hall, followed by a white light, that surrounded Gandalf now. His sword shone bright in the illumination._

_The horrible balrog seemed not to be expressed and took one step further onto the bridge. Gandalf stood tall._

_The ranger knew, they needed to flee, but just like the others he was not able to take his eyes off the fight. Now the balrog came. They were lost, if they did not run!_

_He heard Frodo gasp as a loud crack echoed. Then the evil demon did the next step into their direction. The cracking changed to a thunder! Suddenly the bridge gave away under the giant weight of the beast. It broke..._

_...to that point where the wizards staff had come down._

_With widened eyes the fellowship saw the balrog sinking and how he fell down into the dark. Aragorn had known Gandalf to be mighty, but this..._

_The wizards shoulders droped as the tension fell off. But in the moment Aragorns shoulder did the same, a glistening red flashed up and grabbed Gandalfs foot._

_He did not remind much more of the next Seconds and even Minutes. But Gandalfs words had burned into his memory._

"_Fly... you fools!"_

* * *

Aragorn felt the tears in his eyes as they had fled from Moria just some Seconds before. Remembering Gandalfs death so detailed brought back the anger and pain he had suppressed right after the event. There was no time... Just no time...

He found himself breathing hard.

When he looked up into the golden lady's face again, he saw that she knew now everything without them telling a word. Her fair features did not betray her feelings. But Aragorn saw sadness in her deep, blue eyes.

"We had to flee", he whispered and did not know if he wanted to convince her or himself.

Her face softened and a gentle and assuring smile appeared on her lips.

_I know. You know. And Gandalf did, too. He told you to._

The ranger tried to stable himself. But his voice did not want to obey fully and shivered slightly.

"We need food and sleep. And some of us treatment", he looked at Legolas, who sat quietly on the ground, being very pale, even for an elf.

The bleading of his arm had stoped some time before, but had not been attended to very well. Additionally the escape had exhausted him deeply.

"And it will be granted. Go and refresh. Let our healers take care of your wounds. There will be time enough to talk more later."

* * *

Frodo made the impression that something troubled him, since they had left Lorien. He could not guess what, because the silent Hobbit would not tell him. Every time he tried to approach him, the little one just refused and brought some distance between them. Not wanting to press the already most burdened of them any more, he had stopped to ask. But he did not feel really good with that.

The Anduin was smooth and they traveled very fast in their white boats.

When they arrived the Argonath and passed silently there was a short moment when Aragorn had the feeling of being at peace.

The old, enormous statues exalted beside them. Pippin had asked some questions when the Pillars of the Kings had come into sight. But the nearer they had come the quieter the group had become. And now everything was silent except the regular noise of the lake.

He allowed himself to close his eyes and breathed slowly. The wet, cool air filled his lungs and dispersed the self doubts he felt, since they had lost their friend and leader.

It was too fast that this moment was over and Aragorn had to came back to the present. The pressure was still there but it felt lighter now.

"We should rest", Legolas suggested then.

The dwarf, who had stopped praising the three golden strains he was given at least, agreed. Even Frodo and Sam, who were traveling in Aragorns boat were checking for the cookware already. The ranger did not want to argue, since Frodo was not eating well. There were no good reasons not to rest here, especially if Frodo had found some appetite.

* * *

As he reached for Frodos hand, he saw the horror in the Hobbits eyes.

_I could do so much good with this power. Frodo could rest a little while._

He felt it calling for him, so intensively. So luring. So precious...

Aragorns breathing was deep, the nearer he came, the warmer and more comfortable it felt. His tips were just an inch away, as he realized the trembling in the fingers, that hold the ring. What was he going to do here!

_I am not doing any good. I am scaring. Hell..._

In that moment his senses and sanity returned. Early enough to let his hand move swiftly and make it close Frodos fingers around the little treasure. He felt his knees soften and knelt down.

"I would have gone with you to the end. And through the fires of Mordor."

Frodos eyes became so mild, just as he regretted something.

"I know", he paused. "Look out for the others. Especially Sam. He will not understand."

Aragorn realized. He understood. Involuntarily he let his eyes sink.

_So this is Goodbye..._

A blue glimmer caught his attention.

"Frodo, run!" he whispered, his hand at his sword.

* * *

"Where are the Hobbits?" Gimli shouted grim.

His ax wept of black, smelling orc and uruk hai blood. Aragorns sword dripped, too. Some drops had spluttered over his worn shirt. The only one that seemed clean was the elf, carrying his bow in the unusual hand.

Aragorn and Legolas looked around, searching for a sign. The ships still were complete.

"They must have caught them", Legolas stated. Not even his voice was void of adrenaline.

Aragorn looked at the boats.

"They have them all", he agreed.

Then suddenly he began to get some of the spread things together and packed them in his pockets or tied them to his belt. Just what he could carry along easily. While he did it, he said...

"I cannot ask from you to come along with me. If you do not see any sense in this travel anymore, you are free to leave."

Both, Legolas and Gimli, did not understand what Aragorn meant by that. There was something in his word... It was the elf that answered.

"We are all members of the fellowship. Why should we redeem our promise?"

Aragorn stopped as fast as he had started his action. He slowly turned their direction. Then he shaked his head.

"There is no fellowship anymore. Frodo was just about leaving the group when the horde attacked. He will do so as soon as I find them, I fear. The fellowship breaks."

There was dead silence for a moment. No one of them said a word.

Then the dwarf growled.

"Since Frodo was not able to leave, yet, the fellowship is still sound. I am still bound to my oath. And even if Frodo leaves after _we _freed the Hobbits. I will not run, tail between legs, to loose my honor in front of this pointy eared prince", his thumb showed in Legolas' directions.

At this the elf smiled.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn."

The ranger exhaled and could not suppress a grin.

"How about your arm, Legolas. Does not look well."

"It may not be fully flexible. But I can still hold my bow and string it. My legs – before you're asking – are not affected at all. It will be the dwarf, who slows us down."

Gimli protested, before they burst out in laughter. The tension fell off and although the worst was to fear, their bodies relaxed a little.

Aragorn threw some water bags to them and nodded.

"Let's hunt orcs", he gnarled dangerously.

* * *

They had run for days now and were completely exhausted. Frodo had sunk to the ground the moment the orcs had decided to have a break for two hours. Sam, Pippin and Merry sat beside him, as close as possible to spent each other some warmth.

"I don't think, Frodo can stand it any longer", Merry said worried.

Sam was far behind worried. To see his friend like this made him hopeless.

"We have to do something", Pippin sniffed. The young Hobbit did not take it so well, too.

"If we just could make it to the trees", Merry whispered.

They heard the hacking of the orcs axes. Seemed as they would start a little fire.

"They are too far away", Sam stated emotionless. "And we are too many to crawl there unnoticed."

"We cannot just sit here and wait. They will chase us to the edge. And when we are there, they will drag our unmoving bodies to their master." Merry was never the one to just give in.

"Can you hear that?" Pippin whimpered muted.

Sam and Merry stopped arguing and listened. Merry searched the grassland, but it was pitch black.

"There is nothing", Merry said. "I cannot hear anything."

But Pippin turned his head in the direction they had come from.

"Not true. It sounds like... hooves!"

And then Merry and Sam heard it, too.

And then chaos broke loose!

* * *

"Do not let him speak... he will put a spell on us." They listened into the wood.

The creaking and groaning had faded.

"We must be quick", the ranger warned.

They turned around at once and looked into a rash growing light. It blend them at once but Legolas was at least able to send an arrow into the brightnesses center.

The missile burst and flew in all directions. Aragorn found himself not able to hold his sword anymore. It burned his fingers and he let it fall. He heard the metallic sound of the ax beside him, too.

Appalled they lost some ground, knowing there was no chance to flee.

Shielding his eyes with his fingers, Aragorn regained control over the reflex. He prepared himself for what must come now. His thoughts with Frodo, whom he had disappointed. His sorrow with his two brave friends, whom he had led to this end.

A dark voice sounded, unnatural... inhuman.

"You are tracking the footsteps of four young Hobbits", it spoke to them.

Now all the sorrow disappeared and made place for hot anger.

"Where are they?" he demanded to know.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday", the voice returned. "They met someone, they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

If the white wizard tried to make fun of them, Aragorn was not amused. But something in the bright figures words made him suspicious.

"Who are you?"

There was silence. When the tall frame before them did not answer, Aragorn repeated.

"Show yourself!"

It happened so fast, so inglorious. The blending shine just receded and left a natural light falling through the leaves.

And there he was.

"It cannot be", Aragorn did not believe it.

Gimli and Legolas did not dare to say a word. The elf knelt down in obeisance. The dwarf bowed deeply. Just Aragorn stood tall to the Istari, still not buying it. Gandalf nodded softly, his grey eyes assuring Aragorn, it was true.

"You fell", he had seen it with his own eyes!

* * *

They sat in Fangorn and the night had come. Legolas still felt the hostility the trees emitted. At least that feeling was not against them anymore. Or so he thought. Aragorn just had finished his story.

"This is the explanation, why the Hobbits parted", Gandalf was thoughtful chuffing his pipe.

Although he was changed, some things still were the same.

At these words Gimli let his head fall between his knees. He was frustraded.

"Why didn't you avoid that? Wasn't there something you could have done?" he asked.

"I was not there, when it happened", the dwarf looked up questioning. "It is the wood, who told me."

"It was his plan since Lorien. I think nothing could have changed his mind", Aragorn interrupted. "The question now is, what shall we do?"

Gandalf took a deep breath and when he let the air escape, the sweet smell of the white vapor surrounded them.

"I have seen what Saruman was preparing for. The trees whisper that he is just about to attack. This will be a hard blow to Middleearth and its free people", he looked at Aragorn. "It will be disastrous if Minas Tirith has to face two fronts."

The ranger did not seem completely at ease with Gandalfs implied suggestion.

"I have told you about Theoden and Eomer. Rohan is deeply split."

"I understood that. But it does not sound like Theoden King to do something stupid like this. Even if it is... do we have an alternative?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hello dear readers (if there are any ;D)

At least I have done it! Another chapter! Have fun!

* * *

Chapter 3

„So, this is the great hall of the horse men", Gimli stated and looked around.

Gandalf knew that compared to the giant halls in the heights of Erebor this place wasn't too impressive for the dwarf. The ornaments of the walls were made of wood – the dwarfs preferred stone. The room was decorated with tapestries, embroidered with pictographic looking horses and stories – the dwarfs valued metal and gems of all sorts.

But one thing they had in common... heavy beakers. He did not doubt that Gimli would come to an better opinion. In case Theoden king would bid them welcome.

Hama nodded to enter and follow him. Inside the door ward bowed deeply to step aside and let them through.

But following the building line across the fireplace to the end of the room, where the throne was waiting in a cold shadow, he realized this would not happen without effort.

When they approached, the silhouette of Rohans King became clearer. But his face seemed to be spread with the dark that laid on the throne. He looked old and very ill. More like a doter than a reigning king. Gandalf did not miss the second figure becoming visible, although it seemed much more hided and inconspicuous. It nearly fit into the overlaying gray. He knew that creep.

Iced eyes examined them before turning to the king who's eyes seemed to be blinded. Words were whispered. The wardens in the arcades did not look too pleased and observed them suspiciously.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden king", Gandalf called, not even having made all the way to the monarch.

Again a hissing whisper.

When the king addressed them it seemed every word was demanding a lot of strength from the old man.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

The words did not sound dangerously, so weakly spoken. But they were, indeed.

The blind eyes again searched the icy ones. And after a moment the dark figure besides the king rose.

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Láthspell I name you, Ill-news; and _ill news is an ill guest_ they say."

"Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" ", Gandalf hissed, raised his staff slowly and suddenly Grima involuntarily lost ground.

"His staff! _I told you_ to take the wizard's staff!" Grima growled and backed away some more.

At these words the wardens came to action. But Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were prepared. They held the men back with their bare hands, allowing the wizard to approach the throne. As a soldier reached for his sword, Hama intercepted, hand on the mans shoulder.

Gandalfs words echoed through the wide hall impressively. Like a thunder... but they ended in pity.

"Théoden, Son of Théngel. Too long have you sat in the shadows."

The king did not move. Just like he was bound to his seat. The blind eyes turned away from the wizard not wanting to see.

Gimli fought down Grima, that pale sleazebag.

"I would stay still if I were you."

All the guards lay on the bottom, except the ones who had not interfered. Hama stood still. He just looked at the throne with a mix of hope and angst.

"Harken to me! I release you from the spell."

What then came, no one had expected. The king at least turned towards Gandalf. And then an agonized sound came out of his mouth. When it lasted, Legolas looked perplex at Aragorn. This was laughter!

That old man was laughing at Gandalf!

"You have no power here Gandalf the Grey." he nearly spat out the byname.

Gandalf stood tall...

And then he threw away the gray robe... the light was blending!

Theodens laughter turned into a cry. His body was pressed into the seat.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound", Gandalf threatened.

He threw his staff forward and Theoden jerked. His muscles tensed and his hands hardened around the throne. White knuckles stood out.

Aragorn barely was able to halt the young, beautiful woman who just had arrived and was now fighting to help her liege.

"If I go — Théoden dies."

Ganalf knew this voice very well... This did not impress him.

"You did not kill me. You will not kill him."

The next words wounded out of the split lips.

"I will not kill you – with my own hands. Rohan is mine!"

Gandalf increased the pressure.

"Be gone!" he commanded.

At this the king came out of his throne and threw himself at the white wizard. But there was no chance. Gandalf brought up his staff and with a flash of light the king was forced back.

Moaning and fighting for breath, Theoden curled in his seat.

Aragorn was not able to hold back the Lady in white. She stormed to the man, helping him up, just to freeze.

The kings eyes were moving, looking around! The mist was washed out of the retina and became clear! She witnessed a wonder! As the features rejuvenated and he looked her into the face since many, many month, she could not hold back a bright smile. Happiness began to fill her.

"I know your face", he said.

The most beautiful words in her life. She felt the tears falling. Was it over?

"Eowyn..." It was! "Eowyn..."

"Breathe the free air again, my friend."

They had freed Eomer from prison and the king now knew how important it was to act fast. They had decided to ride to Isengard and strike first.

* * *

But even when they sat together in the small group to regain some strength in a meal, it was obvious that Gandalf was deep in thought, still. Aragorn, who sat beside him, was the one to ask. But even Legolas and Gimli sat up and took notice.

"What's wrong? I can see, something is troubling you."

Gandalfs eyes did not really focus on anything, but it seemed, he searched something.

"The dread feeling I had in Imladris has returned. It is something, that was said, but is not fitting", he answered in a riddle.

Aragorns brows knitted and he looked at his companions.

"Is it the threat?" Gimli guessed right. "It is empty, as was everything Theoden said under the spell."

"I am not sure of that", came the immediate answer of the wizard.

When they had eaten, it was time to go. But while the king was clad in his war suite and Legolas stood up from the table to follow his friends outside he saw something from the corner of his sharp eyes.

It was due to his fast reflexes, that the worst was avoided.

A scratching sound was heard suddenly, cloth rubbing on rope very fast. It only lasted two seconds, becoming louder and then stopping.

Legolas just had turned around, the white knife drawn, as he faced a cloaked stranger. First he thought it was Aragorn in his ranger cloth with the dark green cloak, the high boots and the leather gloves. But then a sword flew through the air, aiming on Gandalfs back.

The white blade came up and held back the blow. It was strengthful and woke a pain in Legolas' healing wound from Moria. But it was not a real threat to the elf.

The white staff flew away in a high bow and fell clicking onto the ground at the eastern wall.

Legolas froze due to this unexpected movement. How did he do that, it shot through his mind.

Gandalf turned around appalled, finding a rope falling from the opening in the hall, where the intruder had come from.

The next blows came fast between the stranger and the elf. It was an unusual sight. The enemy was a man as it seemed from his figure, but every stride of the elven prince was blocked and returned with an exact attack. Although the movements of that guy could not measure to their friends fighting art, they were effectively. Legolas lost ground and tumbled back, as a sudden foot kick found a way through his defense directly onto his old wound. Not even Aragorn had ever been able to come as near to an elf in a practicing fight.

Aragorn had drawn Anduril now and the unknown person hesitated just a moment in a deep stand. But when the Dunedain attacked, the man seemed to know where he was aiming and just rolled along the dangerous silver blade.

Although Aragorn reacted at once, turning around, this came surprisingly and he knew, he was to slow. Out of his eyes corners he saw the stranger beside him finishing his twist, again aiming at the wizard.

Gandalf brought up his arm as an ineffective shelter. Everyone held ones breath. Only Aragorn wasn't too shocked to let out a scream.

"Noooo!" his voice echoed through the hall.

The sword missed its aim... Neither Aragorn nor Legolas were able to overcome the shock at once.

It is said in Gondor, that a man can take more than one blow from an elven blade or a mens sword, if it was not a fatal one. But when a dwarfs ax caresses you once, no second swift will be necessary.

It was Gimlis turn. The sharp and heavy weapon sliced through the air and the aggressor jumped back, as in fear. He brought the long sword up, but when Gimli swung his ax again, the man lost more ground.

Now they found back to their senses. Even Eomer jumped into action. The stranger was able to maintain Legolas and Aragorns blows while avoiding Gimlis ax fearfully. But they could not overcome him. It was when Eomer arrived that it seemed to be just too many skilled enemies for one man to fight. By sheer number they were able to bring the fighter to fall. Guthwine, guided by Eomers mighty sword arm did the last attack. It banged onto the strangers long sword very hard. The weapong fell to the stony ground and glided away some meters while the fighter fell back himself.

Anduril flashed up and came to an halt only an inch before the attackers throat. Aragorns eyes were hard and cold. This was unforgivable. They nearly had lost their leader again and he was not willing to show any mercy to such a dangerous, hired killer.

He did not have a doubt. This was the threat Theoden had warned them about, when underlying the spell.

Legolas', Gimlis and Eomers blades accompanied his own. But he wanted to be the one to bring this to an end!

"Wait", he heard a deep, silent voice. "Wait..."

Everything became quiet. They could hear their own breathing and the heavy breath of the stranger. Now that he laid before them on his back, leaning on his elbows, they saw, the fight must have been a heavy one for this man, too, because he was gasping for air.

"Gandalf, I cannot let this man live", Aragorn stated. "He nearly killed you!"

"But he did not", the wizard returned quietly.

He went to take up his staff and came to their side. Even Legolas looked at the wizard with no understanding.

"He is dangerous. I have never seen a man, fighting the three of us with such effort. It needed one more man to bring him to fall. I have never seen something like this..." then the elf shook his head, as he could not believe it. "It wasn't his movements. He fought like a man would. This cannot be explained."

"Do not grieve, friend", said Gimli. "It may have been your old wound that slowed you down."

But all of them had seen Legolas' first strikes and knew this was not everything. Gandalf brought up the end of his staff and with it he stripped the dark green hood from the strangers head.

A tuft of red, cockling hair came into sight. Grey eyes stared at the wizard unbroken.

Gandalf let out a breath, as it was a really painful one. He brought his staff down and let it support him heavily. Suddenly he looked aged. Weakened. Disappointed.

"You know this rascal?" Eomer asked.

"I do... very well", the wizards voice was nothing but a whisper now.

"He will be punished hardly for what he has done to you", Aragorn said, misinterpreting the wizards gestures and features.

"I think he already... is", was Gandalfs only answer.

And while there was silence and no one understood, they could see the defeated mans eyes water.

"Kill me. Or I will kill you", he hissed at the wizard.

Aragorn let Anduril touch the mans throat now to make him keep silent.

"If you kill this man, Aragorn, the return to your city will be overshadowed by vengeance."

"Who is this", Theoden had now come to their side also. "I know these features, although I have never seen them before."

"This is because you know his brother, Theoden king", Gandalf explained. "But young Faramir here, has never been a guest to your hall before, has he?"

The kings eyes widened in shock and he drew a deep breath.

"Then this is Boromirs brother?" Eomer guessed right. "I know Boromir well. He is more like one of Eorls jolly sons, than a scholarly person, as the most Gondorians are. He holds his brother dear and speaks very high of him! This cannot be that beloved person."

"But he is. This is Faramir of Gondor, Denethors son. Prince of Ithilien. A skilled ranger of the south. Known as a well educated man and considered. I, myself, was his teacher once. But this seems ages away."

"And it is", the man on the bottom said barely audible. "You left, so long ago. But still your name adheres to me. If I want it or not."

Gandalf leaned back, not relaxing but as realizing something.

"It was never my intense to harm you, Faramir. And I did not knowingly. Where does that deep hate come from. You were never one to hate blindly. You were never one to hate at all", Gandalf really did not understand.

But then the nights at Isengard came into his mind. The terrible screams echoed in his head and the feeling of something being amiss at Elronds house returned. Could it be?

His hand laid onto Andurils cold blade and pressed it down. Not knowing what was going on, Aragorn let the sword come down distrustfully. Gandalf knelt down beside his attacker, much too close for Aragorns taste. Sorrow was in the wizards features, when he faced the stubborn, but strangely deep grey eyes.

"What has he done to you?" Gandalf whispered, as in great pain.

Although Faramirs features did not soften at all, the lids could not hold back the tears that seemed to come from somewhere deeper inside him. He did not say a word.

But then suddenly, he moved so fast. A knife sprung out of his sleeve and he jumped forward. The wizard fell back onto his elbows, his staff beside him. But he did not do anything to defend himself. Now Faramirs knife laid on the wizards throat, before anyone else could react.

"Stop this insanity, Faramir of Gondor!" Theoden ordered kingly. "Don't you dare and spill blood of a man in this hall who rests here in the kings favor!"

Faramir had frozen, as soon as the blade had touched Gandalfs skin. His teeth crunched, so hard he was biting them together. His face was strained and wet of tears. The knuckles of his fingers were white while the knife trembled heavily. Everyone held ones breath. Everyone but Gandalf himself. He still looked pained, but not frightened.

"You did not do it before, my friend. You won't do it now."

"Do not call me like this", Faramir hissed, pressing the knife even harder onto Gandalfs throat so Aragorn feared the skin to part, soon.

"Take that knife down and we will bring you back to your city unharmed, to see the white tower again, which I know you love so much."

"Do not promise, what you cannot hold", Faramir whispered, but his fingers shook even more by the wizards words.

"I can bring you back", Gandalf reassured.

"I do not doubt that", Faramir answered. "But harmed I already am. And no one can stop the agony, the images bring, I fear."

"What images?" Gandalf wanted to know.

Aragorn relaxed just a little, since it seemed the two men on the ground were now more in a dialogue than in a conflict suddenly. It seemed Gandalf touched this Gondorian somehow, but not openly visible. Legolas recognized it, too, because he let his blade sink a little bit. More of that, Aragorn was very interested in that strange relationship between the wizard and his attacker.

"What images, Faramir?" Gandalf repeated.

"The images..." the mans eyes started moving, as he was looking through the wizard. He even neared Gandalfs face with his own, as trying to get a better look at something, that was far beyond the Istari. Then he took a sharp breath, shaking his head. "What?" he gasped.

And Gandalfs face became stony.

"For the Valar's sake..." the wizard brought out. "You do not need to do that, Faramir."

"But it is already showing, clearly. It will be", he breathed heavily.

Gandalf lend a good friends words now, feeling the desperation filling the man.

"Your talent is an unsound one. Depending strongly on knowledge of the worlds events. All to easily influenced by rumors, superstition and emotion. Easily misinterpreted or mixed up with warnings. You must not rely on that."

"You call me stupid?" now that man did not sound like an aggressor or killer anymore, but like an outraged pupil who did not understand why his mentor criticized him.

"I do not. I'd never do so. But no one is doomed, yet. You have a free will and an open spirit. I do not want to believe Saruman to have such power over you."

Now Faramirs features were not blank anymore, but frightened. He looked around helplessly to the ones surrounding the mental fight, as pleading them for reassurance. As no one seemed to give him, what he adored – not even understanding completely – he faced Gandalf again.

"I cannot", his voice was thin and full of tears, that streamed freely now.

The wizard felt, his friend was loosing ground and would immediately go down. He had to avoid that under all circumstances! But Faramir slipped from him like fine sand from his fingers.

"Fight!" Gandalf demanded suddenly and with all the strength he could find.

At once and before the echo of Gandalfs voice had faded Faramir threw the knife far away from him, one moment staring at the wizard astonished. Then his shoulders sacked and his body became limp.


End file.
